


Resurrection Fern

by strangestorys



Series: Rebirth [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A little angst, Alpha Will, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Belly Kink, Big Bang Challenge, Bottom Hannibal, Discussion of Abortion, Fluff, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Nesting, Omega Hannibal, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Rutting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unplanned Pregnancy, Weight Gain, marshmallow hannibal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8101459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangestorys/pseuds/strangestorys
Summary: After the fall, Will and Hannibal are living a quiet, still celibate life together when Hannibal goes into an unexpected heat. Gratuitous first-time heat sex occurs, and a few weeks later, they're surprised to discover Hannibal is pregnant. They find themselves building a new relationship and facing the skeletons in their mutual closet as they prepare for fatherhood.





	1. Heat

**Author's Note:**

> A Big Bang collaboration with [nonexistenz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz), whose art for this story will be linked in a series soon!

Will came down the stairs in boxers and a t-shirt, bleary and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He heard Hannibal moving around in the kitchen, clanging pans and running water. He could smell breakfast before he even got to the kitchen: bitter, earthy coffee, savory bacon, and something sweet, maybe cinnamon rolls?

Will had the brief thought that that seemed odd; sweet breakfasts weren’t usually in Hannibal’s repertoire, but he supposed it was Sunday after all, as good a time as any for something special.

When he came in, he saw Hannibal standing over the stove, wearing pajama bottoms and a grey t-shirt, sweat staining the back in a V pattern. Now that was _definitely_ odd. Hannibal _always_ dressed before breakfast.

Since the fall, they’d taken up together in a small cottage on the coast of Maine, posing as a normal married alpha and omega couple. In the months they’d been here, they’d slept in the same bed, tending each other injuries, needing the other’s closeness. Though they knew each other intimately by now, they’d remained celibate all this time, never addressing the constant presence that was their desire.

And in all that time, excepting the weeks he was recovering from peritonitis, Will had never seen Hannibal in pajamas at breakfast.

“Casual Sunday?”

Hannibal turned and looked at him, expression blank, seeming slightly zoned out. Will gestured with his hand, drawing attention to his clothes.

The omega seemed to come back to himself at the sight of Will, straightening up a little taller as he did. “It’s been extremely hot in the kitchen lately, Will. I’m afraid I can’t handle much more of this summer we’ve been having.”

It _had_ been a hot August, but it really didn’t seem particularly warm today, and it hadn’t seemed to bother Hannibal in the last few weeks. Huh. Will dropped it and sat to drink his coffee while Hannibal finished breakfast. They ate together silently, Hannibal obviously far away in his head. _That_ wasn’t entirely unusual, but Will still felt funny about it. There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, rubbing against the wrong part of his brain, and he tried to put it out of his head.

 

* * *

Later, Hannibal finally got himself dressed and left to go to the market, leaving Will with some alone time. Usually these weekly trips took him several hours, between the grocery, the butcher’s, the florist, and the bakery (where he always thoughtfully picked up an extra pastry for Will). Will always used the time to catch up on his own thoughts, a need that Hannibal seemed to implicitly understand the value in.

That afternoon, Will was sitting in the living room, browsing a book about the coastal fish species of Maine with half his brain, while the other half thought lazily about his relationship with Hannibal: where it was going, what they were doing here, when and if things would change. He didn’t have any answers, he just felt the need to let things swirl around in his brain for a while. 

He was just turning the page in his book to a section on the best deep-water baits when he heard the front door open, followed by hesitant footsteps. Hannibal had only been gone about half an hour, and Will wasn’t been expecting him for a little while. He felt a spike of adrenaline down his spine at the thought of a possible intruder.

“Hello?”

When he didn’t hear a response, he put his book down and took a couple of cautious steps towards the door.

“Hannibal? Is that you? Did everything go okay in town?”

As he approached the entryway, he caught a strong sweet smell, almost just like the cinnamon rolls Hannibal had made them for breakfast. Again, a fuzzy feeling clawed at the base of his skull that he couldn’t quite grasp. He shook his head to clear it a little and kept going until he could see the door.

What he found was Hannibal, hunched over on himself, leaning on the entryway key table for support. Sweat was building on his face, which was turning a worryingly beautiful shade of crimson. He seemed to smell Will more than he heard him, turning away when Will entered from the living room.

“Will, don’t come any closer.” 

“Are you… are you okay, Hannibal?” Protective hormones flooded Will’s brain, a relic of his alpha identity that he’d tried to suppress for years. 

Hannibal took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself, grunting with the effort on the exhales. His eyes were clenched shut, trying desperately to rein himself in.

It took him a while to speak, and when he did, it was stilted. “I... didn’t think it was possible, but I’m going into heat.”

Will’s fear was quickly replaced by a mix of relief and panic. Hannibal wasn’t sick or injured: heat was at least natural and temporary. But they, as an alpha and omega living together, hadn’t discussed this sort of thing at all, and it was something that had honestly never crossed Will’s mind, given Hannibal’s age and abdominal wounds.

“ _Christ_ , Hannibal. Did you know this was possible?”

Hannibal, still looking down, shook his head. “I thought I’d had my last heat years ago. And especially with the injuries… _šūdas_!”

Hannibal doubled over as a fresh wave of it hit him just then, and Will could smell it, warm and smothering, filling his pores. Will felt his own faculties slowly start to slide as his body reacted to the smell and sight of Hannibal, betraying him when he needed to remain alert.

“Shit, let’s get you upstairs.”

Hannibal held a hand out, still trying to maintain control. “No, I can handle it. I’ll stay in the guest room. There’s no reason you need to deal with this.”

Will was becoming increasingly aware that, despite his best intentions, he _wanted_ to deal with it, more than anything, and _definitely_ more than he thought he would. His cock was rapidly gaining interest, and it was becoming difficult to think of anything else.

Will knew that Hannibal had wanted him for a long time, the way he looked at him over the breakfast table, or in the car, or on the sofa after dinner. For his own part, Will had been trying to figure out how he felt about the idea. Living with an omega, especially one with whom he had so much history and chemistry, certainly tested his restraint from time to time, but going through a heat with Hannibal, _bonding_ was something else entirely. Could he really bond with this man, after everything that had passed between them?

Now, with Hannibal in front of him, dripping and gasping with his heat, all those questions seemed so far away. Of course it would come to this. Will had never really had an option to begin with: this was the deal he signed when he walked into Jack Crawford’s office so many years ago. When he called Hannibal to tell him to run. When he found him in Florence, and again in prison, and again when they were reborn on the shore after the cliff. How could he even think otherwise?

“Hannibal, look at me.”

Hannibal struggled for a long minute, gripping his lower belly with a wince, and finally lifted his eyes. Will felt a jolt go through his body at what he saw there, the raw need, Hannibal’s pupils swallowing all the light in the room. This powerful man, large and dominant, now utterly undone in front of him.

“Will… you know I don’t expect you to help me with this. I’ll be over it in a few days, I’ve managed before, many many times. Just leave me alone for a while.” Hannibal struggled to uncurl himself and stand straight, and finally managed, still wavering a little. 

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

“Of course it is, leave me in the guest room and go about your business.” Will saw the fight in Hannibal’s eyes as he tried, and failed, to maintain the aloof air he’d spent years cultivating.

“You want me to leave you alone in the guest room. The guest room that hasn’t had its sheets changed or its decor updated since 1973. No food, no water, no relief. That’s what you want?”

Hannibal groaned and screwed his eyes shut, abruptly losing his tentative mask of control to another wave of heat. Will walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, running it up his neck to softly grip the side of his face.

“Let me put it this way: do you _want_ my help?”

Hannibal slowly opened his eyes and looked back at him, mouth hanging open, panting.

“Will…”

“Do you?"

“I’m not going to ask you to do that, not if you don’t want it. This isn’t your obligation.”

“And what if I _do_ want it?”

Hannibal’s nostrils flared then, noting how thick the air was with both their pheromones. He couldn’t stop himself from letting out a low moan.

Will brushed Hannibal’s damp hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear, then wound his hand around to place it firmly on the back of Hannibal’s neck. Hannibal went completely loose and calm at the gesture of dominance, his breathing slowing and his muscles going pliant.

“Good, you’re okay. This is okay. I want to help, Hannibal. Let me help.”

Hannibal clenched his eyes shut again, breathing out hard, then opened them and nodded minutely. Will took the slight invitation for what it was and, hand still on the back of Hannibal’s neck, slowly moved forward to kiss him. _Finally_ , after all these years. It was like a keystone slipping into place, perfect and grounded and real.

Hannibal grunted with the simple, sweet shock of it, taking a minute to get his bearings and return the kiss. When he did, it was with a calm reverence that belied the animal need coursing through his blood. His lips were so soft, and so wet; he tasted better than anything Will had imagined, and he found himself unconsciously rutting close into him as they kissed. 

At the feel of Will’s hard cock pressing into his thigh, Hannibal moaned and completely abandoned his controlled facade. He pressed back and took Will’s mouth hungrily, gripping his face and then his hair and tugging hard at it in a way that sent a sudden jolt down Will’s spine.

Will retaliated by traveling a hand down to squeeze at Hannibal’s ass, finding it just as round and plush as he’d always imagined (and he had to admit to himself that yes, he _had_ imagined this before). Just a little further, he felt how _soaked_ Hannibal’s pants already were, and it caused him to buck forward hard and break their kiss. He rested their foreheads together, both of them panting hard.

“ _Fuck_ , Hannibal. Upstairs. Now.”

Hannibal had a look in his eyes that said he didn’t care if they quite made it all the way upstairs, but he obeyed, unbuttoning his shirt as he went, discarding it in the hamper at the top of the stairs. Will followed, _thoroughly_ enjoying the view the whole way up, the sway of his rounded hips a sight that Will couldn’t fathom having missed out on for so long.

Once they were in the bedroom, Will pulled his own shirt off and walked over to Hannibal, putting his fingers roughly through his belt loops and using them to pull him close. He nosed at his neck, scenting him hungrily, before kissing him there. When he bit down gently, Hannibal let out a sound like a wounded animal, grabbing at Will’s hips involuntarily and thrusting them closer together.

“I want this,” Will whispered into his skin, between leaving kisses and suck marks up the length of his neck. “I’ve always wanted this.” He surprised himself with the admission, both to himself and to Hannibal.

Hannibal just whined, his sweat already creating slickness between their flushed chests and bellies. He pulled away and moved his hand to hover over the bulge in Will’s pants, a questioning look in his eyes.

Will nodded, loosing his hold on Hannibal’s belt to grip his hand and move it closer, both of them sighing with relief when Hannibal cupped his cock. Hannibal stroked him like that for a moment, just running his big, warm hand lightly over Will’s clothed dick, getting a feel for the length and weight of it, breathing heavily and seeming very pleased with the whole experience. After a minute, he inched up to undo the button and fly on Will’s pants, and Will helped by shoving his boxers down, finally freeing himself to the sound of Hannibal’s appreciative groan.

Before Will could return the favor, Hannibal had dropped to his knees, and was mouthing enthusiastically at the head of his cock, tonguing the precum from his slit as he reached back to fondle his balls and still-deflated knot.

“ _Fuck_.” Will buried his hand in Hannibal’s hair and let his mind go blank for a minute. Everything was unbearably good, and they hadn’t even really gotten started yet. He internally marveled at how, even in heat, Hannibal was restraining himself enough to appreciate Will’s body like this. Will knew he must be aching to be filled, yet the look in his eyes said this was all he’d ever need.

He came back to himself when Hannibal began sucking him down and then pulling off again, going a little further with every pass. He tugged on Hannibal’s hair gently, noticing how it made him moan and filing the information away for later. Hannibal reluctantly took the hint and pulled off maddeningly slowly, looking up at Will with glistening lips the whole time. He was obscene and beautiful, and Will felt a rush of intense possessiveness at the sight. _Mine._

“Get undressed and get on the bed. Face up.”

Hannibal almost tripped in his haste to obey, and if _that_ wasn’t a beautiful thing to witness. He lay down on his back, knees bent, feet planted on the bed. His omegan cock, smaller than Will’s, hovered above his belly, thick and flushed and wet. The sight of his hole, swollen and red and dripping slick all over the sheets, had Will bearing down on him mindlessly, needing to touch and taste.

When Will lay between his legs, Hannibal immediately crossed them around his hips, pressing him in close. He moved down through the tunnel of Hannibal’s thighs, kissing down his torso, leaving small bites as he went, then laving over the spots with his tongue, giving attention to his firm, corded neck, to his dark nipples, to his plush belly. Hannibal gripped tightly to his hair as he went, pulling just hard enough to be a little painful, but wonderful.

Eventually, he reached Hannibal’s cock, and he kissed lightly down the length of it before taking it into his mouth. A fresh wave of scent hit him just as he heard Hannibal’s surprised moan. Holding eye contact with Hannibal, he sucked hard as he pulled back slowly, finally releasing his dick with an obscene pop.

“Hannibal, I need to know something.”

Hannibal’s eyes, already wild and desperate, knitted together briefly. “Anything.”

“I need to know, Hannibal. Have you ever shared your heat with someone before?”

His face softened then, though his gaze was still heated. “Never.”

“Good. Then this is a first for both of us.”

At that, Hannibal’s mouth opened a fraction, a low noise emerging.

“I honestly thought I’d never get the chance. But look at you, hot and open and ready. How could I leave you like this, to get off on some toy. How could I give up the opportunity to see you like this? To taste you like this?”

Hannibal’s eyes went nearly black at the words, and his belly was quivering with the effort he was expending to keep himself from just flipping them over and finally sinking down on Will’s cock. The short taste and feel he’d already had was enough to make him ravenous for it. Thigh already wrapped around the side of Will’s head, he spurred his heel into Will’s back forcefully to get him to do something, _anything_ to relieve the pressure building up in him.

Will laughed at his unsubtle prodding. “We’ve got _days_ to enjoy this, what’s the rush?”

Hannibal glared back, bestial, firmly squeezing now with both of his thighs. Will wondered just how much of calm, collected Hannibal was in there right now, and how much was pure animal need. He wondered if there was really a difference, if this creature had lived inside of him for all these years. If he was here to stay for good. Will could certainly think of worse companions.

He gave Hannibal a cheeky smile before turning to kiss his inner thigh, sucking and biting a trail down before moving to lick, finally, at his opening.

He wasn’t sure which one of them moaned louder, but the contact was enough to have his head spinning. Will grabbed onto Hannibal’s thighs to pull himself closer, laving his tongue in broad strokes around and over his hole, then inside and oh god, _oh god_. This was nothing like being with a Beta. It was hot and slick and sweet and open, and Will found himself thrusting his tongue further in to get as much of his taste as possible.

Hannibal was producing slick in steady waves now, and clenching around Will’s tongue rhythmically. It was so damn good, and the heat was making everything so much more urgent, so much _more_ than Will could have imagined. He slowly realized that he was losing his own control, rutting against the bed between Hannibal’s legs, trying to get any relief he could.

“Will.” Will was so focused on the feel and taste of Hannibal that he heard his voice from far away, as though he were underwater. After another minute, he felt a firm squeeze from the trembling thighs around his neck.

_“Will.”_

With no small amount of reluctance, Will stopped and looked up to see Hannibal, chest heaving, covered in sweat, mouth hanging open and panting.

“Now, Will.”

Will’s heart leapt past a beat, and he gave Hannibal’s thigh a gentle squeeze, encouraging him to let go. As he moved up, he felt those thighs immediately and reflexively cradle his ass as it slipped between them. He leaned down to kiss him, just briefly, and Hannibal groaned obscenely as he tasted himself on Will’s mouth, then pulled back, looked straight into his eyes, and repeated, “ _Now_.”

Will nodded, holding himself up to get a better view as he gripped himself at the base and guided himself in, the noise from his throat stretching out into an obscene mess of low groans as he felt Hannibal’s tight, slick, _hot_ walls around him. It was _incredible_ , and looking up again, he realized Hannibal didn’t seem to be faring much better, eyes clenched shut and mouth open around a long, needy cry.

Once Will had bottomed out, they both stopped to breathe and adjust, Will grunting every time Hannibal unconsciously clenched around him. This wasn’t going to last long for _anybody_.

When Hannibal began rocking back, willing him to move, Will took a shallow thrust, then another, not really able to handle much more just yet. He already felt blood flowing to his knot, though it wasn’t nearly fully inflated. After about a minute, though, he felt the vice grip of Hannibal’s thighs around his hips again, and Hannibal began lifting himself to fuck back onto Will’s cock, faster and harder.

How did Hannibal even have the strength for that, after the injuries he’d been through?

Will’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he realized he didn’t have much choice here, so he may as well go with it. He travelled his hand down to Hannibal’s ass, massaging the soft weight of it as he helped him tilt up his pelvis, just enough to find his prostate. Hannibal let out a loud yell at the contact, and continued his fast pace, now grunting with effort and need. Satisfied, Will set his hands firmly on the bed again and began fucking back into him just as hard, feeling his knot start to expand more and catch on Hannibal’s rim.

“Fuck, I’m getting so close. What do you need?”

“Just… _ngh_ … this, just keep… _ungh_ … keep going.”

Will nodded, and he did, his movements becoming more and more difficult the more his knot expanded. Just as he pushed in for the last time, seating himself fully, he felt Hannibal clamp down around him with a shout, coming hard. The powerful contractions and the feeling of his knot being compressed so tightly set him off too, and he came deep inside Hannibal, vision going white. It felt like it lasted forever, waves and waves and waves of it, and he couldn’t remember anything ever being this intense.

When he came back to himself, cock still locked deep inside Hannibal, he tasted the slight tang of blood and found his teeth buried shallowly in the join of Hannibal’s neck. When had _that_ happened? He let go, feeling Hannibal shudder under him and clench around his cock.

“Are you okay?”

Hannibal just let out a pleased hum, apparently too fucked out to do much more. _Possibly_ too fucked out to care that Will had just unconsciously bonded with him mid-climax. Will rolled them to one side so he wasn’t laying directly on top of him, and Hannibal went along willingly, baring his neck as they settled.

“Did I hurt you?” Will laved over the red bite mark with his tongue, gently cleaning it of blood. He had a vague awareness that he was acting on instinct, flooding Hannibal’s body with his pheromones, but couldn’t really stop himself. Hannibal didn’t seem to mind, just nuzzling further into him.

The feeling of being locked inside was more than Will had anticipated, never having experienced this with a Beta. He suspected the same was true of Hannibal, who was now milking him rhythmically and beginning to move restlessly.  Will gave a small experimental thrust, and was rewarded with a hard contraction and moan from Hannibal.

He kept at it, and soon felt a heavy sigh as Hannibal came around him again, triggering another small orgasm from Will as he did. They lay together lazily, coming down from their chemical high, and a few minutes later, he felt himself begin to soften, Hannibal clenching one last time in an effort to keep him inside.

Hannibal looked exhausted, but he was still flushed and sweaty and nuzzling into Will, chasing his scent. They dozed together for a while, but Will knew the omega would need this again, and soon. He said a half-serious prayer that he’d have enough stamina to make it through the next few days.

“Hannibal?”

“Hmm?”

“How long between…”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

_Oh._

Will buried his face in Hannibal’s neck again, reveling in the concentrated scent there. Hannibal moaned and reached his hand up to run his fingers through Will’s hair, pressing him in closer to the bite wound. Will began to feel like he might be ready to go again a little sooner than he’d assumed, and briefly remembered hearing about the rut effect that took hold during an omega partner’s heat, allowing for much shorter refractory periods in bonded couples. 

_Bonded_. 

“Fuck.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re… we’re bonded now, Hannibal.”

“Yes.” Hannibal buried his own face further into Will’s neck, chasing his scent. Almost impossibly, given how saturated the air was with their pheromones already, Will smelled a fresh wave of slick.

“I didn’t mean to… we should have talked about this.”

“Are you not pleased with this development?” Hannibal was laying kisses down his neck and shoulder now.

“I’m not saying that.”

“Did you not expect this, when you offered to help with my heat?”

“Not explicitly, no.”

“I did.”

_Presumptive bastard._

“I can’t say I gave it much thought. I guess we were always headed towards this, huh.”

“Probably, yes.”

“Things just moved along a little faster than I’d expected.” And it really wasn’t so bad. Or so unexpected. Just very sudden, and very new. And, to Will’s surprise, very arousing. Will kissed the bite mark again, tasting both of them on Hannibal’s skin.

He moved his hand from where it sat on Hannibal’s hip down to his ass, squeezing it lightly. Hannibal hummed appreciatively. Will kissed up the side of Hannibal’s neck, from the bite mark up to his mouth. Hannibal reciprocated, and they kissed lazily as Will reached further back to finger around his hole, finding it still soaked with both slick and cum. He worked his fingers in the best he could with the awkward angle, and began thrusting in shallowly, pressing against his walls as he went. Hannibal moaned into his mouth, kissing him more desperately now.

After a few minutes of this, Will felt Hannibal begin to fuck back onto his fingers, rutting his omegan cock forward into Will’s belly with every thrust. Will’s own cock was beginning to take interest, and he rutted back, causing Hannibal to groan, slick spilling over Will’s fingers. Will kept at it, and soon Hannibal squeezed around him and broke their kiss, coming hard, still panting as he came back down.

“Will, I need…”

Will thrust once into Hannibal’s thigh, and Hannibal clenched around Will’s fingers again as though he hadn’t just come seconds ago. Will withdrew them, enjoying the satisfying wet noise as Hannibal’s body tried to keep them inside, and shifted to lay on his back, rubbing the slick over his cock, bringing it to full hardness again.

Hannibal watched with black eyes, breathing hard. 

“Come here.”

Hannibal let out a small wounded noise and moved to straddle Will’s thighs, just behind his cock. Will let it go and put his hands on Hannibal’s firm thighs, squeezing lightly.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Hannibal groaned again and ran his eyes over Will’s body laid out before him. He reached down to grip Will by the hips, passing his hands up Will’s flanks, pausing to thumb at his nipples, focusing hard on all of Will’s reactions: the changes in his breathing, the travelling flush in his chest, his little moans. Will imagined that if Hannibal’s brain weren’t so overrun with hormones, he’d be composing some ode in ancient Greek. He might still be.

He moved his own hands up to rest them on Hannibal’s hips, squeezing them a little to encourage him to go ahead. Hannibal took the hint and reached out to grip Will’s cock as he rose on his knees to sink down on it, both of them moaning in tandem at the feeling of completion.

As good as the first time was, this was different, better, _more_ , now that they’d bonded. Will felt home and safe inside Hannibal, like this was the only place he ever wanted to be. Any doubts and regrets about the sudden bonding were washed out of his mind when Hannibal began to move, rising up and sinking back down on his powerful thighs, clenching around him on every thrust up.

The feeling was almost eclipsed by how good the _view_ was, Hannibal’s sturdy torso in front of him, silver hair along his chest and down his soft belly, his thick, corded arms caging Will in. And his smell was _everywhere_ , all around him and in him and part of him. This was heaven, or very, very close to it.

Hannibal went slowly for a while, but soon the heat hormones washed over him again and he started fucking down harder onto Will’s cock. Will began thrusting up to meet him, and after a couple of minutes, had an idea and squeezed Hannibal’s hips to stop him for a second. 

Will shifted to sit up, pulling Hannibal with him, cock still inside. Hannibal moaned loudly at the feeling of Will’s cock slipping deeper in this new position, and he kissed him sloppily, wet and hot and perfect. Their torsos pressed together tightly now, sweat dripping between them as Will rocked up into him. On his next thrust, Hannibal slammed down to meet him, setting a hard and fast rhythm to bring them both to completion.

Will’s knot began to inflate rapidly, and with it, he felt Hannibal’s movements slowing down as it became more difficult to thrust. They settled into a more gentle rocking motion until he was fully seated inside, Will letting out a loud groan and pushing Hannibal’s hips to encourage him to keep moving. Hannibal, mouth hanging open silently, began working himself back and forth around Will’s knot, finally stilling with a cry as he began to come, the powerful contractions setting off Will’s own orgasm. Will saw stars, this orgasm longer and gentler than his first, but no less intense. When they’d both come back down, Will hugged Hannibal to him tightly, both their bodies slick with sweat. 

They sat like that, knotted together and breathing in each other’s scents until Will softened.

 

* * *

 

Over the next few days, Will lost count of how many times they fucked. He tried several times to get them downstairs to eat, or to shower, or to get some fresh air outside, and every single attempt ended in fevered rutting, mostly initiated by Hannibal, but a respectable number initiated by himself. He was amazed at just how much of this their bodies could handle, but supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, given the five years of tension that had led them to this, on top of the heat and bonding hormones.

By the end, they were both exhausted, falling into a deep sleep in each other’s arms, still knotted after their final fuck. They woke up well past noon the next day, starving. Will made them a massive breakfast of pancakes to make up for the last few days, and they spent the rest of the afternoon attempting to bring the house back to some semblance of order in between bouts of truly shameless nuzzling.

He knew this fervor for each other would eventually die down, but for now their bodies wouldn’t seem to let them be apart. It was definitely not what he’d envisioned when he’d thought about his life together with Hannibal, but he could think of far worse fates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC...
> 
> [strangestorys.tumblr.com](http://strangestorys.tumblr.com)


	2. The Second Month

In the weeks after Hannibal’s heat, they settled into a casual, if cautious, intimacy. They were both relieved to have broken the tension they’d been living in since the cliff, but more reserved now that the intense initial flood of bonding hormones was waning.

Without the haze of heat, they were able to explore each other more slowly, to learn each other’s likes and needs and cues. Their relationship still had many grey areas, but at least they weren’t dancing around their attraction anymore. Will learned that Hannibal was wonderful in the early morning, laying on their sides, soft and slow, no rush to be anywhere. Hannibal learned that Will was particularly indulgent after dinner, and they very often didn’t make it out of the dining room: plates pushed aside, Hannibal on the table on his back, legs around Will’s hips. It was all so new and so familiar at the same time, like they’d been meant to do this together, like they should have done this _years_ ago.

Will began to wonder, often, what would have happened if they’d given into this in Florence. In Baltimore. In Minnesota, even. Would they have had to hurt and lie and betray, the way they did for so long? Or would it have been enough to have this warmth, this easy comfort?

It was enough now. It was enough to have warm hands on the small of his back as they passed each other at the vanity in the morning, enough to fall asleep full of Hannibal’s scent and softness. Enough to know he’d be there in the morning.

* * *

One Saturday morning, several weeks afterwards, Will went out for a long run down the isolated road leading to their small house. Fall was just beginning to set in, the trees tipped in light gold, and Will was doing his best to enjoy it before the harsh winter he knew was coming. He appreciated the chance to be alone for a little while, to let his mind wander to nothing in particular.

Afterwards, he stopped through the kitchen on the way up to shower, hoping, though not expecting, that Hannibal would have made him a snack. Hannibal, never one to take the opportunity to feed Will for granted, often had a plate of fruit and nuts for him when he came back from running, fishing, or yardwork.

The kitchen, however, was curiously empty. Huh. Usually Hannibal was in here getting a start on lunch by now, but there was no sign of him. Will shrugged it off. _Probably at the market having an argument with the cheesemonger about butterfat percentages or something._ He grabbed himself an apple and quickly sliced it, putting it on a plate to take upstairs with him.

As he passed through the living room, he was surprised to find Hannibal laying on the sofa, a wet towel covering his forehead and blocking his eyes.

“Hannibal?”

“Hmm?” His voice was soft and strained.

“Is everything ok?”

Hannibal removed the towel from over his eyes to look at Will, wincing a little when he saw the sliced apple in his hand.

“Fine, Will. I seem to be fighting a mild stomach flu, but I’m sure it will pass.”

“Oh, oh no. Can I get you anything? Do you want some soda water or crackers?”

Hannibal’s face screwed up. He closed his eyes and took a big slow breath to steady himself, and said, more quietly than Will had come to expect from him, “Some tea would be nice, if you wouldn’t mind. After your shower of course, go take care of yourself first.”

Will resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Always a drama queen. “Of course I’ll make you some tea. Just lay there and nap, I’ll have it out in a minute.”

Will went to put the kettle on, then went upstairs to find Hannibal’s pajama pants and a sweater for him. When he came back down, Hannibal was breathing slowly on the sofa, eyes closed, one hand to his belly. Will left the pajamas on the ottoman next to him, and went to catch the kettle before it could whistle and wake him up. 

After his shower, he came back to find Hannibal sitting up, wearing his pajamas and sipping the tea he’d left on the coffee table. His cheeks had a bit more color than before, but he still looked a little peaky.

“Feeling better?”

“A little, thank you for the tea.”

“Up for lunch? I can warm us up some tomato soup?”

Hannibal turned a light shade of green at that, and he closed his eyes to fend it off.

“I suppose I’d better get something into myself, but toast may be it for me.”

“Toast it is. Are you sure you’re ok? I’ve never known you to turn down food, Hannibal.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m sure I just need to sleep it off.”

He didn’t sound particularly convincing, and he looked even worse, eyes focusing distractedly into the middle distance, but Will just nodded and left to work in the garage for a while and give him some space. He trusted that Hannibal would let him know if anything were truly wrong.

It was still difficult to see Hannibal sick, after the injuries they’d suffered together. But he also intimately understood Hannibal’s need to take care of himself sometimes; he understood it in the way only someone who has been used to that sort of thing for a very long time does.

When he came back inside, he passed Hannibal in the kitchen, dressed in slacks and fitted shirt, making dinner as though nothing had happened.

“Back up so soon?”

“Feeling much better, and quite hungry. I suppose I just ate something that disagreed with me earlier.” 

“Good, glad to see you back. I didn’t have much faith in my ability to recreate your dinner plans,” Will said with a light smile.

Hannibal smiled back fondly, “The tea and pajamas undoubtedly helped.”

Cheeky bastard.

The casual joking thing, that was new. So was the flirting. As it turns out, three days of a hormonally-induced sex trance really _can_ do wonders for a relationship. _Who knew?_

They ate together, enjoying that they could be with each other in just this simple way. Afterwards, Will sat on the couch reading, Hannibal’s head in his lap, dozing lightly. He thought about how they could have been this, in another life. They could have been these soft people, these easy people. They could have raised children and watched them grow up, sent them off to college and empty nested together. They would have had their own Christmas traditions, favorite Sunday recipes, family anecdotes that would get pulled out at gatherings and become more outlandish every time until everyone around the table was in stitches laughing. It almost hurt to think over it, but it was nice, too, to know that it existed in another world. They could have a piece of that still: the warm nights in front of the fire, the silent knowledge of how to prepare the other’s toast and coffee. The trust and clean sheets and pumpkin pie. They could be this and be happy.

\---

The next morning, Will woke before Hannibal, leaving him in bed while he went to make breakfast. It really wasn’t like him to sleep in like that, but Will figured he was still fighting a bit of his virus, and he didn’t think too hard on it. He got out the bacon and eggs and set about frying them. Just as he was cracking the eggs, he heard Hannibal come down the stairs, and looked up just in time to see him appear, scrunch up his nose in distaste, and disappear just as quickly.

“Hannibal? Are you…”

Will put his spatula down and followed him out to where he sat on the sofa, head between his knees, breathing slowly.

He sat down beside him and rubbed his back gently, feeling the tension ease between his shoulder blades. Eventually Hannibal sat up again, looking at Will easily and steadily. Much too easily and steadily for how ill he’d looked just a moment earlier. That kind of thing was never good, not where Hannibal was concerned.

“I’m fine, Will. The smell of the bacon was just a little intense. I must still be fighting that virus.”

“I know fine, and this? This isn’t fine, Hannibal. _You love bacon._ ”

“Everyone gets sick sometimes Will, this is nothing to worry about. Give me a few days and I’ll let you cook all the bacon you want.” His jaw was set and steady, but there was something less sure in his eyes, just a small waver, but it was there. 

“Hannibal, you’re not everyone. This isn’t like you. Go see a doctor or something.”

“Will, I am a doctor. And I’m telling you I’ll be fine. It’s not unusual for a virus to take hold for several days. Go eat your breakfast.” He brought the gates up around himself again, and Will knew that conversation was over for now.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone. But you’d better take care of yourself.”

“Scout’s honor.”

Will left in a huff. Asshole. All he went through to save Hannibal’s life after the cliff, all the worry and sleepless nights and antibiotic injections and time spent helping him sit up and button his shirt and tie his shoes and eat his dinner. And Hannibal was just going to tell him to forget about it and not worry.

He went about cracking his eggs, scrambling only two of them. Hannibal could make his own breakfast if he felt like it later. The omega was hiding something from him, he knew that much. They’d been so connected for years, lied and manipulated each other until they knew all the other’s tells. Hannibal couldn’t get sick and just expect Will not to feel it, not to worry. And since Hannibal’s heat, they were more physically connected now than ever.

Will suddenly froze halfway on his way to pour the eggs into the pan, dropping the bowl and not even noticing when it shattered on the floor. _Since Hannibal’s heat._

He stood, shellshocked, staring at a small point on the wall, trying to count the weeks and failing. But… no. No. This was not a thing that could happen. I’m too… and he’s too… and we’re… just… no. No.

“Will? _Will?_ ”

He suddenly noticed Hannibal standing right in front of him, snapping his fingers to try to get his attention. Will looked at him, mouth still not closing properly, and he suddenly smelled him, smelled the faint new sweetness that clung to him. _How had he missed it?_

“You’re… you’re pregnant.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” No hesitation. _Self-absorbed bastard._

“Were you going to tell me?”

“Of course I was. I only just discovered it for myself.”

“‘Only just’ had better mean ‘within the last five minutes,’ Hannibal. How long have you known?”

“Two weeks, more or less.” He at least had the decency to look sheepish at that.

“ _Two weeks?_ ”

“That’s when I first had my suspicions. The nausea confirmed it. Awful, not to want food. I sincerely hope the morning sickness dies down soon.”

“Are you… are we… _fuck_.”

“Do you want to sit down, Will?”

Hannibal reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, and Will let himself be guided to the kitchen table. Hannibal walked to the counter again and brought him the plate of bacon.

“Your blood sugar is too low. We’ll talk after you’ve eaten.”

“ _My_ blood sugar is too low?”

“Will.”

Will glared at him, but picked up a piece of bacon and bit into it, maintaining a recalcitrant eye contact the whole time. 

Hannibal sat down next to him and watched steadily until Will had two pieces of bacon down, finally looking away and letting Will speak once he was satisfied. Will focused on the egg yolk currently puddling on the floor next to the counter in a field of broken porcelain, watching a stream of it flow towards them down a groutline in the tile.

He still wasn’t entirely sure he could control his tongue enough to form words. 

There was a lot swirling around in his forebrain: a lot of how, why, why didn’t I figure it out sooner, why didn’t he tell me, what the hell are we going to do, can you even get an abortion in rural Maine, where’s the website that tells you how to do it, is there going to be a lot of paperwork, are we going to have to watch some kind of video about fetal development, what are we going to _do???_

There was also, simultaneously, a lot swirling around in his hindbrain: a lot of _mine, mine, mine, mine, protect, provide, go kill, bring food home, fuck yes, fuck yes, fuCK YES._

“Well, um. You’re pregnant.”

Hannibal hmm’d gently, “It would appear so.”

“Did you… did you know this could happen?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Look at me.” Will waited until Hannibal met his gaze again. “Are you telling the truth?”

There was no harshness in it, just a need to know. Will knew by this point, truly knew, that Hannibal wouldn’t lie to his face. Lie by omission, blur the facts, yes. Straight-out tell a lie while looking into his eyes, no.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Okay. “So what’s going on?”

“I… don’t know.” He was telling the truth here too; he was too obviously uncertain for this to be a lie. “My heat was enough of a surprise, after so many years without, but I’d assumed it was a ghost heat. My age and the injuries I’ve sustained should make pregnancy highly unlikely.”

“But here we are.”

“Here we are.”

“How do you feel?”

Hannibal paused, visibly taken aback by Will’s immediate leap to his own health. Despite everything, it was still difficult for both of them to accept just how much the other actually cared, about the big stuff, the mundane stuff, the day-to-day stuff. If they were out of the other’s favorite kind of jam, or if there were a new issue of _Field & Stream_ on the newsstand. Or if one of them, as was the case currently, was having a particularly bad bout of morning sickness.

“Tired, mostly. And a little nauseous, but it passes by the evening.”

“It must be… about two months by now?”

“Seven weeks.”

Will rubbed a hand over his face, looking back down at the egg yolk, which had travelled another half-tile’s length by now.

“What are we going to do about this?”

“We’ve got about seven more months to figure that out, don’t we?”

Will’s eyes snapped up to find Hannibal’s, stonefaced.

“You can’t be serious.”

He was.

“There’s no way we’re… how are we supposed to raise a child, Hannibal? We’re both wanted fugitives. It’s hard enough just keeping ourselves alive and free out here, why would you want to introduce another life into that?”

“It certainly wasn’t in my long-term plans, but things seem to have changed.”

“They don’t have to. This is an easily solved problem.”

“We’ve been given another opportunity for a family, Will. I’m not about to let that go lightly.”

“And do you remember _at all_ what happened the last time you tried to give us a family?”

Hannibal flinched, just minutely. He was obviously prepared for the comment, but it still stung.

“I think we’re both finished making the mistakes that got us to this point, wouldn’t you say?”

“Never too late to make new ones.”

“A child, Will. _Tabula rasa._ Infinite opportunity for them, and for us.” His face was steady, but his eyes were pale and open. Will had never seen him so clearly.

“This isn’t the kind of choice you make just so you have a chance to tailor tiny waistcoats and teach someone to play the harpsichord.” Will teased gently, reaching out to hold Hannibal’s hand across the table. Hannibal took it, squeezing just once. “This is real.”

“Are you saying you’re volunteering to be subject to music lessons and couture in our potential child’s stead, should this not work out?” He was poking fun at Will now.

Will rolled his eyes halfheartedly, playing along. “Touché.”

“Will, I’m not expecting you to come to terms with this today, or even this week. Give it some time and let me know when you’re ready to talk again. If you’re still set on ending it, we can discuss that.”

“Will you seriously entertain the option if I do still want to end it?”

“Possibly.”

So, no.

“Okay. You go rest and let me get the kitchen cleaned up. I’ll come find you and see how you’re feeling in a bit.”

“Will…”

“Just let me, it will give me a chance to think.”

“Very well. I’ll be in the den.”

“If you think if anything you’d like at the store that would settle your stomach or make you feel better, let me know and I’ll go into town.”

“Thank you, Will. I will.”

Will set himself to picking up the pieces of glass, still a little shaky from their discussion. _Fatherhood_. Hannibal was out of his mind. At their age, with their history. And he’d just been looking forward to a quiet, out-of-the-way life, finally settled and comfortable with the man he was just now beginning to accept his feelings for. And Hannibal wanted to bring a _child_ into that.

Looking down, he noticed a drop of red mix with the yellow yolk on the floor, and realized that he’d cut himself on a piece of the bowl. Just a tiny sliver on the pad of his thumb. He washed it off in the sink and then stood staring at the mess while he sucked it lightly into his mouth to stop the bleeding, glazing over while he processed the enormity of their situation.

In a back hallway of his mind, a door opened, one he’d never noticed before. Light spilled out, an uneven rectangle into the dark hall, and inside he found a boy, his dark, straight hair parted to the side, holding hands with a very young girl. He looked to his own side and saw Hannibal there. He reached out to take his hand, and at that second it all vanished.

He was in the kitchen again, broken glass still around his feet, and he understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out [nonexistenz's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz) amazing art for this story, [Graviditas](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8097607)!!
> 
> And as always, come say hi at [strangestorys.tumblr.com](http://strangestorys.tumblr.com)!


	3. The Third Month

They didn’t talk about it that week.

Or the week after.

Or the week after that.

Hannibal’s nausea and exhaustion only got worse, and with it came more stress on both of them. Every time he would avoid the kitchen while Will was cooking, or refuse a plate of cheese and crackers, or take his second or third nap of the day, it was a shadowed reminder that something was Not Right.

The spectre of fatherhood once again loomed over their lives, bringing with it the emotional muscle memory of the last time they’d tried this out.

Their intimacy was, to say the least, suffering. They’d stopped having sex entirely, sleeping now on their own sides of the bed. It was cold and awkward and uncomfortable, and Will couldn’t believe they’d lived for months like this before Hannibal’s heat.

In an effort to not discuss their possibly-impending parenthood, they’d sit across from each other at dinner and come up with painfully mundane things to talk about instead: the farmer’s market, buying new snow tires for the truck, planting tulip bulbs for the next Spring, that sort of thing.

Will was torn between wanting to leave for a week and sulk in a tent in the woods, and wanting to hover near Hannibal, protecting him and his – _their_ – child. To do it right this time.

And while all that was going on in his brain, Hannibal’s smell was driving Will’s hormones absolutely haywire, increasing his need to be nearby and to provide, and making it incredibly hard to keep his distance, both emotionally and physically.

For his part, Hannibal was just as avoidant of the topic, but was obviously having an equally hard time staying away from Will. After his afternoon nap, he’d often wander the house and yard until he found him in the garage, and then set up a chair to keep him company out there, silently reading while Will tinkered with his current project.

They were stuck together, each in different headspaces, both waiting for the other to make some move, to cross the line into “we’re doing this.” And really, they both knew it came down to _Will_ to cross that line, as Hannibal’s feelings on the matter were already entirely clear.

Fortunately, while his hormones were rampantly controlling his emotions, Will still had an upper hand on his thoughts. Mostly. And Will needed that upper hand to think things through, to try and convince himself that he didn’t want this.

But – and this was the problem – he was discovering that he did want it. Every day, he wanted it more.

Every day that passed in this new world, where he had a mate and a potential child, was a day that he became used to the idea. And even though Hannibal was, well, _Hannibal_ , he began to see him not as a lover or an antagonist, but as _family_.

* * *

One evening, at the end of their third silent week, they sat in the living room together in front of the fireplace, Hannibal reading a dusty old book he’d found at the second-hand shop in town, Will reading the local paper, catching himself up on important news, like who’d won the jam-making contest at the town blueberry festival.

As he zoned out while browsing the classifieds, Will found his eyes wandering to Hannibal, who was deep in concentration, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. A low and soft possessiveness flooded him at the sight of his mate, safe and warm and home.

He wanted to go outside and chop wood until he was sure they had enough for the winter, until he was sure this man would never go cold.

He wanted to hunt and stock their freezer with venison and fish, until he was sure this man would never go hungry.

He wanted to smooth the hair from his forehead, to run his hand gently down his back, to hug him tight, until he was sure that this man would always know he was loved.

He wanted to give him a child.

The thought came out of nowhere, and out of days and weeks of unconscious thoughts, all at the same time.

The logistics of it were unthinkable, _insane_ , but the emotional reality was that he couldn’t imagine not having a child with Hannibal, now that the situation presented itself.

In his mind, he saw the joy and wonder on Hannibal’s face when he would first hold their baby. He’d never before seen Hannibal give a real, true smile. One that lit his face up and creased his laugh lines.

Didn’t he deserve that? Didn’t they both deserve to have the things other families have? Love, hope, a future?

Didn’t they deserve to right their past mistakes and start again with each other?

He took a deep breath and let it out hard and slow, loud enough for Hannibal to glance up at him over the rim of his glasses.

* * *

He lived with the thought for a few days, rolling it around in his head. Figuring out how the words would taste when he told Hannibal _yes_.

It was one afternoon several days later, when they stood together at the kitchen sink washing the dishes after a meal that Hannibal had successfully managed to enjoy, that the question burst out of him without his consent.

“Are you going to go see a doctor?” Will asked with feigned casualty, glancing at Hannibal out of the corner of his eye. 

Hannibal paused, answering carefully, “I hardly think it’s wise.”

If he was affected, he didn’t show it. Will knew there was hardly a question he could ask that Hannibal wouldn’t have a ready answer to, which made these conversations all the more aggravating.

“Is it wise to bring a pregnancy to term without medical advice? Especially with your abdominal injuries?”

Hannibal stopped then and looked at Will, cocking his head just a little. Perturbed.

“I’m hardly inexperienced in difficult births, Will. It’s not ideal for me to treat myself, but it’s the best option we have, without unduly exposing ourselves.”

Will nodded. “Okay."

He was right, of course. Will didn’t have to like it, but he was right. The voice in his head shouting _"keep your fucking nose to the ground, Graham, you are_ not _going back to prison over this,"_ agreed wholeheartedly. How the hell was he supposed to enter an OB/GYN clinic with the Chesapeake Ripper and just assume everything would go fine?

But then there was the voice in his head telling he’d better be _damn well_ sure he did everything in his power to protect his omega and their child. Their potential child. The child he was about to tell Hannibal he wanted to have. And that was the voice that had thought this through.

Will put down the drinking glass he was drying and held out his hand for the one Hannibal was currently washing. “I’m sure you’ll be needing some equipment, then. Monitors, that kind of thing.”

Hannibal passed the glass over to Will to dry and picked up the next one from the counter. “Are you volunteering to _acquire_ us some?”

Will kept his eyes on the glassware in his hand and let a small smile creep onto his face. “All I’m saying is that there’s a gynecologist on the mainland about whom I’ve read absolutely awful Yelp reviews. Seems he’s very rude to his patients.” He looked up to see Hannibal’s reaction.

Hannibal was focusing on his work as well, a small smile just appearing at the corner of his eye. “Is he?”

“If he were to not show up to work, say on a Monday, and no one were in his office, then it might be easy to find ourselves in the possession of anything and everything you might need.”

Hannibal continued cleaning, putting a painfully obvious amount of effort into appearing nonchalant. “You’ve put an awful lot of thought into this for someone who doesn’t want children.”

Will paused, wanting to give his next statement weight. “I never said I didn’t want children. Just that it seemed like a bad time.”

Will could practically hear Hannibal’s heart beating like a rabbit’s from two feet away. “And now?”

They looked up at each other, both having been on edge for exactly this moment all month.

“Oh, it’s definitely a bad time. But it’s happened, against everything that says it shouldn’t have happened, and… here we are.”

Hannibal held his eye contact for a long minute, eyes narrowing and seeing something in the set of Will’s jaw. He nodded, and abruptly broke his gaze, looking out the kitchen window. Will saw a small tremble in his lip, and looked away to give him some privacy.

When Hannibal spoke, it was quiet and rough. “Here we are.”

Will reached out to hold his hand, rubbing the back gently with his thumb until Hannibal gripped back.

“And your fears? About… our past?” There was a break in Hannibal’s voice, like sliding ice.

“Still there. But that’s how life is, isn’t it? You do your best to move forward. You’re right that this is a chance for us. A chance to write a new narrative.”

Will looked back up at Hannibal and found his cheeks wet.

“We’re bonded now, Hannibal. And even if we weren’t, I’m not going anywhere. We do this together or we don’t do this at all. I need you, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now let’s finish with the kitchen, because I have some very important plans for this afternoon.” Will winked and gave Hannibal’s ass a little squeeze, pleased to find it a little fuller, a little rounder than the last time he’d felt it. That was _definitely_ a side effect he’d be exploring.

Hannibal jumped a bit at the unexpected contact, but laughed, rosy and warm. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“I don’t know how I’ve lived without for the last few weeks, if we’re being honest.”

Hannibal turned to face him, a wild happiness just underneath his calm facade. Will closed the gap between them, and they kissed, long and slow and sweet. It was chaste and powerful, and by the end of it, they were out of breath, starving for each other. The sex was something entirely new and sacred, full of a bright love.

Afterwards, they lay in bed, Will’s head on Hannibal’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. He put a hand on Hannibal’s warm belly, stroking it as they both dozed, imagining the life inside.

“Will?”

“Hmm?” He nuzzled in closer, on the verge of sleep, content.

“...is now a bad time to tell you that I suspect we might be dealing with twins?”

_“Fuck.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay on this, but I do have the next several chapters ready to go, so updates will be much more regular. Get ready to hop onboard the kink train in the next chapter~~~
> 
> [strangestorys.tumblr.com](http://strangestorys.tumblr.com)


	4. The Fourth Month

One day in late fall, Will came in from the pier, a stringer of bluefish thrown over his arm. He’d woken up early, as much to greet the earliest fish as to have some alone time. 

He and Hannibal had each made a point to maintain solitary hobbies, even once they’d bonded. He imagined that might become more difficult as the pregnancy progressed and the increased hormones caused them both to spend more time near each other and in the home, but for now, it felt healthy to be their own people for at least a little while every few days.

Even so, it had been impossibly hard to leave Hannibal alone in their bed that morning. The sun had barely peeked through the bedroom’s bay window when his alarm had gone off, and though he tried to catch it after two beeps, Hannibal still stirred at the sound.

The omega had been wrapped around him, head tucked firmly under Will’s chin; he clutched Will tighter at the noise, making a small hum of displeasure. Will shh’d him, the air from his breath ruffling Hannibal’s hair just the slightest bit.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be home by lunch.”

Hannibal gave a sleepy groan, hugged him tighter briefly, and then rolled over onto his back to let him go, eyes still shut.

After he’d dressed, Will sat on the side of the bed to tie his shoes, noticing that Hannibal had rolled over again to face Will’s side. Will traced a gentle hand over the hair on his forehead, then grabbed his own pillow and tucked it under Hannibal’s arm. Hannibal, still asleep, clutched it close, sighing softly.

The whole thing, like much of the rest of their life lately, had been bizarrely saccharine, but it left Will with an addictive warmth in his belly that he’d never imagined feeling.

Now, as he came in from the autumn chill, he thought back on it, wishing he could climb back into that pocket of warmth for the rest of the day. Hannibal, however, was probably already up and puttering around the house. The omega wasn’t quite in his nesting phase yet, but he had a restlessness about him lately that had him straightening throw pillows and organizing his sock drawer a little more often than was strictly necessary. As with the rest of Hannibal’s odd behavior lately, Will allowed it with little fanfare, deciding firmly against questioning a pregnant omega. Especially a pregnant omega who was also _Hannibal._

In an effort to not create more housework for Hannibal to obsess over, he took off his marshy boots and coat in the mudroom and brought the fish into the kitchen. He quickly cleaned and deboned them with the long, thin knife he kept in the left drawer, then wrapped them up in two-portion-sized packs and put them in the freezer.

He had the thought that those packs might not be big enough for long, with Hannibal’s appetite already much healthier than it had been last month, and sure to increase throughout the second trimester, but decided that was a problem to deal with later.

He had another, briefer thought that they’d need to provide much more food in future years with two growing children, but banished that one deeper still to an inner room of his mind and locked the door. He’d warmed up to the idea of fatherhood, but was still a little shaky on the logistics and reality of what they were facing. He found it was always better to ease his psyche into these things slowly. One toe at a time.

On his way upstairs to shower, he tried to keep his mind focused on the list he kept in his head of lighter things to force himself to think about, such as: how he’d be cooking the fish later, what shade to stain the deck he wanted to build for the porch, how could they get out of going to their neighborhood Thanksgiving potluck. That kind of thing. Harmless thoughts. Not thoughts about ultrasounds and health insurance and charter schools and the inevitably massive therapy bill their children would rack up as adults. Better to leave those thoughts for later and think about... _pie_ instead. Maybe Hannibal would make pie later if he asked nicely? There were still some apples left from the farmer’s market last week...

“Hannibal? Are you planning anything for dess…” he called through the house, stopping short when he reached the bedroom and was greeted by what could only be called a ransacked mess.

The sheets were pulled back as though Hannibal had just woken up, clothes were strewn all over the bed and floor, and he heard the noise of clothes hangers clicking from the open walk-in closet. It wasn’t at all what he’d come to expect from life with Hannibal, which always involved neatly pressed slacks hanging precisely in color order, drawers full of balled socks and folded underwear, and a pristinely made bed, no matter what time of day.

He went to the bed and picked up a discarded waistcoat, deep navy blue with subtle checks, the back made of soft silk in a ridiculously indulgent multicolored paisley pattern. 

“Hannibal?”

No answer, only a small pained groan coming from the vicinity of the closet. Will walked in that direction cautiously, protective instincts suddenly flooding his brain and putting him on alert, ready to defend and protect.

_When did he become so alpha?_

“Are you okay? Did something happ… oh... _oh_.”

Hannibal stood shirtless, wearing a pair of slacks that Will knew to be one of his favorites, grey with a light herringbone texture. They now fit snugly around his ass, pulling lightly at the tops of his thighs and causing his love handles to spill over the sides just a bit. And really, he wasn’t so much _wearing_ the pants as he was attempting to get the button to close around the small rise of his belly. Attempting and failing miserably.

Will felt his mouth go suddenly dry, alpha instincts going haywire at the sight. He wasn’t sure whether he was more aroused or terrified, the physical proof of their growing children now right in front of him, undeniable. _So much for easing his psyche into it slowly._

Hannibal wouldn’t yet be noticeably big to the outside observer, but Will could see a now-obvious roundness that hadn’t been there in the weeks before; Will truly hadn’t realized how much he’d grown until he saw it laid out like this, among piles of clothes that were now just the wrong side of too tight.

When Hannibal saw Will appear in the doorway, he gave up the fight with a frustrated sigh, letting his fly fall open, framing his newly round stomach. Will felt his arousal come on in full force now, drowning out the fear for the moment. He knew he was staring, but couldn’t really find the energy to care.

He walked into the closet, framing Hannibal’s belly with his hands, feeling how warm it was, and full of life. It was soft, softer than Will remembered, but there was also a definite firmness underneath, a definite mass. Will let his hands travel around to Hannibal’s hips, gripping the new softness he found there, and then further down, where he slipped his fingers under the too-tight waistband to push it down and free his plush ass. As he did, he couldn’t help but notice how much more there was to hold onto _everywhere. Christ._

His breath caught in his throat, and he looked up to Hannibal’s face, finding it rounder and ruddier than he’d ever seen it, even during his more hedonistic years in Baltimore. He was _glowing_ , and Will felt like he was going to drown just looking at him.

It was a lot, this transformation that Will was just now fully noticing. Had he really gained this much weight already? Had this been happening for _weeks_? And all of this because of _Will_ , because of their want for each other. Because they _decided_ to do this, after being given the chance to reverse time. Will felt his throat tighten.

He looked up from Hannibal’s stomach and into his eyes, finding that his irritated expression had given way to gentleness in seeing Will’s face.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Will heard himself whisper. “This is real, isn’t it?”

Hannibal just nodded, grasping Will’s face in his hands and pressing forward to kiss him gently. Will intensified the kiss immediately, needing desperately to be closer, and Hannibal reciprocated just as fast. They were full of each other, out of breath and hungry for more.

“You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful like this, Hannibal.”

And he was. He looked incredible, he smelled incredible, he _tasted_ incredible, and even though Will knew it was pheromones creating that effect, he was starving for it. He knew Hannibal felt the same way, going by how he pulled back to lick and suck hungrily at Will’s neck.

“All of you is beautiful,” Will said as he ran his hands down Hannibal’s torso, squeezing and groping every expanded bit of him he could find.

Hannibal made a choked noise that trailed off into a moan, bringing his mouth back up to kiss Will again, hard and sloppy now. Will moved his hands to Hannibal’s chest to press him backwards towards the bed as they kissed, pushing Hannibal down onto it and straddling him.

Hannibal came back to himself a little when he felt the mattress under his thighs, and even through the haze of alpha pheromones around him, had the foresight to reach over to gather the pile of clothes on the bed and shove it to the floor. In doing so, he noticed the blue waistcoat Will had found earlier, shades of a small pout threatening to take over his face again as he held it in his hand and sighed.

“This one used to fit perfectly, and now look at it. Even with the cinch all the way undone, I can’t get it closed.”

Will took it from him with a pointed glare and threw it to the far corner of the room. He put one hand on Hannibal’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb, and planted the other firmly on Hannibal’s belly. He looked him straight in the eyes and repeated, “ _All of you is beautiful_ , understand?” nodding firmly until he saw Hannibal nod back and soften a little. “Good. Now lay back so I can worship your ass the way it deserves.”

Hannibal smiled slyly at that, insecurity giving way to cheekiness as he pushed himself up the bed to lay back on the pillows.

Will started at the cradle of Hannibal’s hips, kissing his way across and up to his belly, lavishing every inch of it with attention. It was intense and heady, the taste and feel of Hannibal’s changing body intensely appealing to his alpha hindbrain. When he looked up, Hannibal was beaming down at him with an expression hovering between gentle awe and animal lust. Will understood how he felt completely.

Giving his navel a final kiss, Will moved up to cover Hannibal’s nude body with his own clothed one, descending on him to resume kissing where they’d left off. It wasn’t long until he was grinding down into him, causing Hannibal to squeeze him closer between his thighs with a moan.

“Fuck, I need you. I need you now,” Will groaned in his ear.

Hannibal nodded and pushed back at Will’s shoulder to get him to shift up enough so Hannibal could undo his fly for him and free his cock. Will helped by shoving his pants and underwear down his legs and throwing them to the side, but the desperate whine Hannibal gave stopped him before he could get his shirt off. _Good enough._ He hurried to reclaim his position on top of Hannibal and was rewarded with a deep, messy kiss and another firm squeeze around the hips.

Will really had wanted to take his time, to worship Hannibal’s body, to make this memorable and special, but Hannibal was throwing all that through the window with his tongue and his thighs and his breathy moans. _Later_ , he told himself. He could pull out the flowers and rimjobs another time. Right now, the most important thing was burying himself knot-deep in his omega.

No reason he couldn’t at least be polite about it though. Panting, Will broke their kiss to ask, “Are you ready? Do you need any –”

_“Inside. Now.”_

Will felt his cock throb at the command and at the needy look on Hannibal’s face: pupils blown, mouth hanging open, fangs bared. Starving for him.

_Well. So much for polite._

“ _Fuck_ , okay, okay,” Will fumbled to grab himself by the base and line up, shuddering when he felt how wet Hannibal already was where his cockhead brushed against his entrance.

He sank in easily, spurred on to a fast rhythm by Hannibal’s breathy, animal moans and by the feeling of Hannibal’s thighs locked around his hips, holding him in place.

He tucked his head into the crevice between Hannibal’s neck and shoulder and fucked into him like he was a teenager, hips moving on pure instinct, climbing rapidly past his plateau and dangerously close to coming already.

“I’m... I’m already swelling, fuck.”

Will’s thrusts became shorter and shallower as his knot filled, catching harder on Hannibal’s rim with every pass. 

Hannibal didn’t seem to mind, if the hard clench he gave to Will’s cock and the rough bite he gave to Will’s neck were any indication. He growled as he let go with his teeth and licked over the bite, and the soft feeling of his tongue sent Will over the edge, his knot locking into place as he came hard, letting out a long, low groan. As he spilled again and again, he was vaguely aware of Hannibal coming around him, keening harshly into his ear with it. 

Afterwards, once he’d caught his breath, he rolled them both to the side to avoid putting his weight on the omega’s belly while they waited for his knot to go down.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Hannibal.”

Hannibal gave a small, self-satisfied hum, and stroked Will’s sweaty hair back from his forehead.

“I can’t believe you let me fuck you in our clean bed in my fishing clothes.”

“I can’t either, to be honest.” Hannibal’s tone was light and easy. He sounded unbelievably contented.

“I can’t believe that was so quick.”

Hannibal just buried his face in Will’s neck, licking over the shallow bite wound he’d left, then clenched around him again and teased, “Do you see me complaining?”

Will gasped at the feeling and rested his hand on Hannibal’s hip, sliding it around to the front to feel his swollen belly. Hannibal covered Will’s hand with his own, entwining their fingers.

“You’re so gorgeous. All the time, but especially like this.” Will gave him another long, lazy kiss, and they lost themselves in it, both sighing when Will softened enough to slip out. “I really did have plans to worship your ass, you know.”

“It’s not even noon, Will. I’m sure you’ve still got space in your afternoon agenda.”

Will shook his head and laughed. “Insatiable. What am I going to do with you?”

“Keep me, I’d hope.” Hannibal said with a smile, kissing him again. 

Will stroked lazily over Hannibal’s stomach. “Depends. How would you feel about making us a pie for dessert?”

“Is that all this is to you? A dessert gambit?” 

“More or less. Is it working?”

“Remarkably well.”

* * *

In the end, Will _did_ give Hannibal’s ass his undivided attention for a not-insignificant portion of the afternoon; and for his part, Hannibal _did_ make them a pie afterwards. With an unnecessary amount of decorative pastry leaves on top. And homemade vanilla ice cream.

Neither of them brought waistcoats up again for the remaining five months of his pregnancy, and they were both happier for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get back on a regular schedule with this, hopefully with updates on Wednesdays. Right now, I'm looking for it to have nine chapters, but don't hold me to that - these characters do what they want!!
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr and Twitter!
> 
> [strangestorys.tumblr.com](http://strangestorys.tumblr.com)
> 
> [@strange_storys](https://twitter.com/strange_storys)


	5. The Fifth Month

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, this week's been a truly shitty one for all of us, and I coped with that by writing some extremely trashy fluff. Hope it helps you as much as it helped me <3

The first time Will came into the kitchen to make himself a snack, and found Hannibal standing at the counter with his newest pair of larger slacks unbuttoned, already halfway through a full-sized baguette, he had to cover his mouth to keep from completely cracking up.

“Are you planning on sharing that?”

Hannibal jumped a little to see Will standing there, then swallowed and looked down as if seeing the bread for the first time, wondering how it had gotten into his hand to begin with.

“...Will, I’m…” 

“...you’re what, preparing for a marathon?”

Hannibal’s startled expression morphed into a much more familiar one: clearly irked, but trying desperately to appear nonchalant about it. “I thought I’d have a better time controlling cravings. But this–” he gestured with the loaf of bread still in his hand “–this is all I can think about.”

Will walked over and pulled a hunk of bread off for himself, spreading it with a little of the mostly-used stick of butter that was on the counter. “Well, as cravings go, at least this one’s cheap and easy to get.” He put the bread into his mouth and smiled smugly. He’d been looking forward to this, and was a little surprised it had taken so long for him to catch Hannibal in the act.

Hannibal sighed, though it sounded more than a little put on. “I was truly hoping you wouldn’t have to see me like this.”

Will gave him an equally put-on patronizing look. “Like what, like a normal pregnant person eating normal food when he wants to? When our _children_ want him to?”

Hannibal looked up at him through his eyelashes, trying and failing miserably at appearing guileless and innocent. “Without control. Shameless.”

Manipulative bastard.

“Nurturing. Creating life. It’s just bread, Hannibal. Eat the whole loaf, I don’t care.”

Dropping the pretense, Hannibal just hummed and leaned over to kiss a stray bit of butter off of Will’s lips.

Will leaned into it and kissed back, then tore another piece of bread off and buttered it before holding it to Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal slowly took it from him with his teeth, looking tenderly at Will, as though he couldn’t believe that this bridge had been crossed, that this is where they were.

Delighting in Hannibal’s soft moan as he swallowed, Will met his gaze with a smile and pressed a hand to his growing belly. “Plus, I already know about the 10 PM ice cream runs, there’s no use hiding this stuff from me anymore.”

Hannibal, God love him, actually _blushed_.

“Rocky Road, Hannibal, really? I didn’t think you had it in you to buy dessert off the shelf. It’s very humanizing.”

He could almost _hear_ Hannibal’s ears lift back, like he was a cat whose tail has been stepped on. Will laughed at his stony face and kissed him again, putting his hands on Hannibal’s hips and feeling him melt into his attention. Hannibal set the loaf down to properly grab Will by the face and return the kiss, cravings forgotten for the moment.

He broke it off a second later, apparently overcome by the need to justify himself. “I didn’t have the proper equipment to make ice cream, Will. And besides, it takes upwards of 5 hours to freeze it properly, and…”

“...and there’s no way you were waiting longer than 10 minutes, I know, I know. We all have ice cream cravings, Hannibal. You don’t even need pregnancy as an excuse.” Will teased, gently stroking Hannibal’s hips with his thumbs as he spoke. Hannibal moved his hands from Will’s face to mirror him, gripping Will’s hips firmly now.

“I’d usually say patience is a virtue when it comes to food, but in the last month… my self-control seems to have failed me.” He looked more defeated than irritated by the admission, and Will leaned up and kissed him again to get rid of his insecurity.

“Shut up and eat what you want, Hannibal. Don’t you want our kids to be born fat and happy?”

When he pulled back again, Hannibal’s face had softened into a dopey, dumbstruck expression, mouth gaping slightly, as though imagining holding a round, ruddy, healthy baby for the first time. _Two_ round, ruddy, healthy babies, with chubby cheeks, brown curls and hazel eyes.

It took him a moment to find his words, an eternity in which he stared into Will’s eyes in disbelief. When he finally spoke, there was an incredibly endearing catch in his voice. _“More than anything.”_

The tenderness of his look was both sweet and intensely arousing, awakening all of Will’s alpha urges.

“Good, then just do what your body tells you. You’re the only person in this room judging you for it, so stop.” He nuzzled at the bite scar on Hannibal’s neck and moved his hands around to hold his round belly where it hung out of his open fly. “We _are_ getting you new pants though, there’s no way these can be comfortable anymore.”

“Will, I just got _these_ pants.”

Will smiled into his neck, imagining the series of clothes-related arguments they were doubtlessly facing - every single one of which Hannibal was bound to lose. “Get used to it, papa. I don’t think these kids are getting smaller any time soon.”

Hannibal sighed, but nodded resignedly. “I expect not. Much the opposite, I’d wager.”

“Hopefully _very_ much the opposite. And you’ll be beautiful.”

“I’ll be ungainly, at best.”

Will kissed his neck again and pressed in closer so Hannibal could feel his arousal.

“And I’m going to have an impossible time keeping my hands off you.”

Hannibal took a deep breath, scenting him and breathing out shakily. “You already _do_ have a hard time with that.”

“Oh, I can only see it getting worse from here on out. You really have no idea how appealing you are like this, do you?”

“Academically, I know that alphas feel a powerful pull to their pregnant mate, but I never understood that it would be so sexual in nature. I certainly don’t feel attractive.”

“Trust me. You’re _incredibly_ attractive. You’ve _always_ been incredibly attractive. I liked you sturdy and soft before, and I like you sturdier and softer now.” He emphasized his point with a firm squeeze to Hannibal’s ass, trapped as it was in his too-tight pants. “Now, do you want to finish your bread before, or after, I bend you over this counter?” 

Hannibal jumped a little at the sudden contact, but quickly recovered his composure, answering with a pleased hum, “...after, I think. I get the distinct feeling we may work up an appetite.”

“A wise choice. After it is.” And with that, Will pushed Hannibal’s pants the rest of the way down, not missing the relieved moan Hannibal gave as he was freed from them.

* * *

The next day, Will had come home with a pair of black drawstring sweatpants and handed them to Hannibal with a look that brooked no argument; Hannibal stared at them in a way that suggested he wanted to throw them straight onto the open fireplace, but took them from Will anyway.

“Sorry, they didn’t have any in paisley. I checked.”

Hannibal just glared at him, and Will stifled a laugh as he left to mow the lawn. When he came back in, Hannibal had put them on and was lounging comfortably on the sofa. Neither of them said anything about it.

He ended up wearing them so much over the next few months that Will had had to buy him an extra two pairs.

Really though, the pants were only the _start_ of Hannibal’s problems. He’d tried, he truly had, to keep up with the tailoring on his good shirts; but after he lost his third button in a single week, even _he_ had to admit how impractical it had gotten to have his shirts refitted so often to accommodate his quickly-growing belly.

On top of that, there was his rising body temperature to contend with. Will had never, in all their years, heard Hannibal complain about his clothing being uncomfortable; but one day while making breakfast, Hannibal commented on how _hot_ Oxford-weave cotton was, and couldn’t they just open _one_ window? In Maine. In November.

So Will went to the dresser and pulled out the multipack of plain white Hanes t-shirts he’d already ordered from Amazon, choosing for the moment not to tell Hannibal that he’d already ordered packs in the next two sizes up for him. 

After the success of the sweatpants, Hannibal had accepted the soft cotton shirts with less reluctance, though no less affected irritation. It was a look that Hannibal obviously wasn’t entirely proud of, but there was no doubt that he was much more comfortable, for which Will could tell he was grateful, with all the changes his body was going through.

Will, for his part, was enjoying Hannibal’s new look _immensely_ , a fact that he made very clear as often as he could.

“See, Hannibal? Normal people clothes are soft, don’t they feel good?”

“They’re ill-fitting at best. I can’t even see an appropriate purpose for these pants outside of the very specific circumstance of being pregnant with twins. Though I will admit that, in that circumstance, they are remarkably useful and forgiving.”

“ _Everyone_ wears things like this around the house, Hannibal. They’re comfortable. And anyway, why do you hide your arms behind long sleeves all the time? Look at you, you’re gorgeous.”

“It’s unseemly, Will. These are _underclothes_. I’m not mowing the lawn, for God’s sake.”

“Shut up and let me enjoy your biceps. I spent years not getting to see them.”

“Are you saying you spent years _interested_ in seeing them, before we found ourselves in this arrangement?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“But you’re not not saying that.”

“You’re right, I’m not not saying that either.”

This conversation was followed by fevered making out (and, more often than not, fevered rutting) so many times that Hannibal, whose second trimester hormones had suddenly sent his sex drive through the roof, developed a Pavlovian interest in the loungewear. And so the t-shirts stayed.

* * *

How Will felt about the biceps, though, was nothing compared to how he felt about Hannibal’s belly in those shirts. It was just so obvious now: increasingly round and heavy, hanging over and causing the waistband of his lounge pants to curve down around it.

Will’s hormones were flooding his brain nearly constantly now, the sight of his visibly pregnant omega setting off a cascade of protectiveness, adoration, horniness, and the distinct and very specific need to go gather sticks and sharpen them into spears to ward off predators. He didn’t know, nor did he particularly care, whether it was just hormones creating this attraction, and he wasn’t about to fight it.

The first time Will truly noticed just how much he loved Hannibal’s belly was about halfway through the fifth month, as it was really starting to fill out and become rounder. Hannibal had reached up on his toes for a book on a high shelf, his t-shirt riding up and not quite righting itself when he came back down. When Hannibal realized it, he blushed and quickly tugged the hem down, covering himself again.

Will had felt a wash of possessiveness and arousal at the sight, but he reluctantly let it go without saying anything, sure that Hannibal wouldn’t appreciate the indignity of this kind of thing, especially so early in his term.

It happened a few more times over the next few days, every single incident sending Will’s hormones into a tailspin; but it wasn’t until two weeks later, when Will walked in on Hannibal reaching for a bowl at the top of the kitchen cabinet, that he finally gave in.

Will watched as Hannibal came back down off his toes, reflexively moving to tug the hem of his shirt down. This time, however, Hannibal’s usual tug didn’t work: his belly had grown enough that his shirt just wouldn’t meet his waistband at all anymore.

Will felt his mouth go dry, unable to stop himself from staring openly at the strip of soft skin that was left exposed. Eventually moving his gaze up to Hannibal’s eyes, he found the omega staring back heatedly, and just like that, they were kissing.

The next thing Will knew, he had Hannibal bent over the arm of the sofa, both of them locked together and waiting for his knot to go down.

Hannibal, pressed uncomfortably into the sofa cushions, rumbled a soft laugh.

Will responded with a sheepish groan. “Fuck, I don’t know what came over me.”

Hannibal just laughed harder. “Yes you do. And it certainly took you long enough.”

Hannibal, as Will discovered later, had been waiting for this exact thing, and he’d been finding increasingly absurd things to reach for on high shelves until Will caved.

Will chuckled, “I guess I was pretty obvious, huh?”

“Will, you haven’t taken your eyes off my abdomen for the last month, is that your idea of subtle?”

All Will could do was laugh, face pressed into Hannibal’s back where his shirt had ridden all the way up by now. He felt Hannibal’s chest vibrate under him with his own fit of giggles, and soon they couldn’t stop. Every time Will would pause, the feel and sound of Hannibal laughing would set him off again, and vice versa, until they were both out of breath and in tears. Will had never imagined they’d end up in this place, gentle and trusting enough to let go like this, to feel this sort of joy.

Once it had finally tapered off, both of them giddy and glowing, Will pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s back as he slipped out and stood back up.

After they both righted themselves, they sat next to each other on the sofa. Hannibal rested his head against Will’s shoulder, and Will stroked his hair, both of them enjoying the peace of just being together.

Eventually, Will moved back against the armrest and pulled Hannibal into his lap, placing a hand protectively over the sliver of lower belly that was still exposed. Hannibal nuzzled into his neck, purring lowly.

When Hannibal spoke, it was lazy and rumbling. “I suppose it’s finally time to move up a size, hmm?” 

Will rubbed over his belly and kissed the top of his head. “You sure you don’t want to keep this one for a few more days?”

Hannibal gave a fond, amused snort. “Would you give me any peace at all if I did that?”

Will hummed. “Not likely.”

Hannibal put his hand over Will’s on his stomach, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “It’s a deal then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr and Twitter!
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